Without You
by HiImJamie42
Summary: John's died and left Paul not knowing how to cope with his life.   Mentions of John/Paul slash, don't like it don't read! Rated T for mild swearing.  Review please!


I can't believe it's only been a day now.

My chest still recalls the anguish it went through that short time ago, seeming to mimic it perfectly. My knees and hands still remember when I fell to the hard ground, shaking intensely. My eyes overflow with salty water, running down my cheeks and staining my hands. My throat swells almost to the point where I can't breathe, so raw that I can taste the blood and tissue at the back of my tongue.

My fingers claw at my eyes and brows as tiny translucent streams cover them.

It's only been a day.

My shoulders tremble and I hunch even more into my lap, tightening into a crumpled ball. My back was sore from curving for such a long while, and relaxes a bit as I shift. The blankets beneath me faintly remind me of your soft smell. But the more I inhale and the deeper I breathe, our scents mix until mine overpowers yours, telling me again with searing pain that you're still gone.

It's dark in my room, curtains closed and the door locked. I think the room's better dark, I can almost pretend you're still here, that the early spring, or was it winter? Doesn't matter, but it's almost like the drafts could be your hands or you mouth, burning against my skin.

One goddamn day.

* * *

I miss you.

I could've loved you, but I didn't think it was right. I did love you, I _do_ love you, and I like to think you felt the same. You actually told me you loved me, four or five times, when the deep cuts behind your armor finally bled through. I remember the times you kissed me, and the millions of colorful differentiations we would go through. The soft pecks on my nose and then the deep, penetrating kisses that soon followed.

I should've promised my life to you.

I wish I did.

Though you would've disapproved, I'm sure. You were always so frightened of what others thought of you. That's why you married her, and I know you did care for her, but I always thought, hoped, it would've been me.

I didn't speak to you much after that.

She would come to the studio occasionally, and though I harbored a dense hate for her, I would ignore you as you kissed her good-morning and smiled at each other.

I'd stop smoking if you'd just come back. I'd stop drinking and doing drugs, if you'd just return to me. I know I have to realize that even if I died in your name, it would all be in vain.

But at least I'd get to see you again.

It's only been a week.

* * *

I feel like I'm caving in on myself.

It feels like all the colors have faded into pale pastels, as if I'm living in a bad dream, and the drugs aren't helping like I wished they would.

My wife comes in from time to time, comforts me the best she can. She wraps her arms around me and kisses my neck and face, and that calms me for a while, but she won't stay forever. That much I know.

I miss you, even when she sits beside me all I can think of is you. Her warmth smothers my skin, but can only go so deep. My heart still shivers in the cold.

I feel like I've lied to her, loving you, but staying with her. I've got no one else after all.

It's only been a month.

* * *

I still play my guitar, sometimes 'til my fingers bleed. Cut my hair and shaved too, you always hated my beard, I could tell. But I guess you know all that already, huh? It's kind of nice, makes me feel a bit closer to you, in an odd way. My finger's bleeding I mean, not cutting my hair and shaving.

It snowed today, so I went outside. It's been a while, I know. But it was kind of s quick decision. Like, 'Oh, look it's snowing. I'm going outside then.'

It was nice to feel a real breeze and not just a ghostly draft. At first the sun hurt my eyes, but I adapted pretty quickly to being snow blind. My muscles ached as I walked, I hadn't done much walking, or anything really, since you died.

As I walked through the park I couldn't help but think of you, when the four of us were filming in the Austrian Alps, we skied together in the dense forests for what seemed like decades.

I smiled and continued walking, the snowflakes leaning against my skin and kissing it. I buttoned my coat tighter as I stepped off the concrete and asphalt into the snow-coated grass.

I looked around and saw only a few people, but I pulled my hat down over my eyes all the same. There were a number of people walking their dogs, and two or three families out playing in the snow.

I grinned again, thinking of my family, and how, in a way, they're your family too.

_Our_ family.

And though you're not here, I like to think you are. That you're walking with me, singing and playing guitar with me. And with that thought I know I can make it through all this, with you and without you.

And it only took a year.

* * *

Hello there!

I wrote this one night I watched a couple of horribly depressing videos/read about the death of John Lennon. I tried a different style with this one, and didn't mention anyone's names. I hope it makes sense.

Review please!

Oh, and this is un-beta'd so, grammar may be a bit wonky.

- Jamie


End file.
